


fainter stars

by demonglass



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: "first" meeting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Surgery, Pre-Relationship, brief mentions of dream, but not what you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonglass/pseuds/demonglass
Summary: Sometimes forgetting is a chance to discover something all over again.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Comments: 18
Kudos: 70





	fainter stars

This is the thing: Renjun knows he was sick, knows he spent weeks coughing up flowers in the heat of a fading summer, because when he swallows now, his throat is still sore. Renjun also knows he got the surgery, because he has the fresh white scar still stretching across his chest, has all the paperwork from the hospital tucked away in a folder in his parent’s house.

Renjun knows it all happened, but he doesn't remember being sick - not really at least. He's got flashes of memory, of Jaemin's hand rubbing gently down his back as he shakes, of Donghyuck's worried eyes, shining with unshed tears as he tries to convince Renjun to eat soup he's made  _ (no, it shouldn't hurt your throat too much, I don't know what I could make that'll be easier to swallow),  _ of Jeno and Chenle's reactions to what he thinks was the first time, their sharp intakes of breath and the basketball rolling away to the edge of the concrete court, entirely forgotten, of Jisung's voice, laced with panic after finding a white petal stained red in the folds of one of Renjun's sweatshirts (he doesn't think he'd ever planned on telling him about the sickness).

Renjun has bits and pieces, but for the most part, there's just a hollowness in his head and in his heart where he knows something has been carved out. Donghyuck still looks at him with those worried eyes, and Jaemin is still so gentle when he touches Renjun's arm or his shoulder, like he's scared Renjun might break, but Renjun... well, he doesn't feel whatever they feel when they look at him. That's sort of the point of it all, isn't it?

He's not sad he's alive, not sad he's given up whatever,  _ whoever _ , was killing him, not sad he doesn't remember all the misery and pain that left ghosts and echoes and scars on his body. He's fine, really. The emptiness is a relief, for the most part. It only aches when it rains, when it gets too late and his mind wanders away from him, off into the dark to wonder what it was like, to be in love, to know that it was for nothing, that it made only agony bloom within him.

These times, when he breathes deeply to try and fill the empty space in his lungs, he wonders what the point of it all is? To love someone who isn't yours to love. To lose someone who isn't even yours to lose. It’s better, he decides, not to know. Not to remember.

So he only wonders once, a week after he leaves the hospital, about who he might have loved. About who he broke his heart for. Wonders if he ever passes them on campus, if they see him and pretend not to know. If they never even knew at all. One night, he lets himself dream of dark hair and dark eyes and a friendly smile, just to see if it will soothe the rawness of his skin, of his torn up insides.

It doesn't.

And that's all it takes. After one night, he decides he knows all he needs to. He's better now. Life goes on. He still thinks sometimes, too curious for his own good even when he tries to stop himself, but he never dreams again. There's no warmth to it, nothing tangible or warm- just ghosts that won’t quite fade all the way away.

So he lives with it, because what's the point in lingering on a dead thing? What's the point in staying alive if he won't live? So he carries on, goes back to his apartment, to his classes. After a few weeks, he goes back to other things, to clubs or programs at the library, to a party here and there with a reluctant Donghyuck, back to the bar on the other end of the street to play trivia with his friends, or alone, just to sit in a back corner and listen to the band or the records play.

The scar between his ribs settles into his skin like it's always been there, the sharp, cold air of winter rolling through still burns in his throat and in his lungs, but when he drinks it doesn't sting if it's not alcohol, and he can eat chips again, the splintering end pieces of day old bread. The days all turn over each other, and it's been months since the surgery now, since he was lovesick and dying, and Renjun is almost back to normal.

It's late January, and the second term hasn't quite started up again. Renjun is back in the area early, because he can't quite bear the coddling of his parents anymore, not when he's been telling them that he’s all right for so long now. He thinks it'll be good for him, to have a week to himself in the apartment before Donghyuck and Jaemin come back from break to join him and lay a different kind of coddling over him.

But the apartment is too quiet tonight, too cold and empty as snow flurries through the air outside, and out Renjun's window, he can see holiday lights still strung up and glowing across the street. So he bundles up in a scarf and thick coat, changes into jeans, stuffs his feet into the sleek black boots Jaemin had given him for Christmas, and leaves the apartment behind to go to the one place he knows is open.

It's not a terrible walk, though the night wind whips through his hair, because he wraps the scarf around his face so the air he breathes in is warm and wet, and doesn't hurt quite so much. Renjun's boots crunch at the thin layer of frost lying over everything, and he thinks that if the snow picks up while he's out, he might be able to track footprints along the sidewalk on his way back. It's a simple thought, but it's nice.

He reaches the bar door, and pulls it open. The warm air locked inside washes over him as he steps in, and the door jangles as it falls shut again behind him. He walks up to the bar and offers the bartender a smile; he's almost always there on-staff when Renjun shows up, and when Renjun first came back after everything, Ten had given him a drink on the house, so he thinks that maybe they're friends, in a silent sort of way.

Renjun picks a seat and shrugs off his coat, laying it on the empty stool to his left. He rests his arms on the bar-top and orders water before anything else. Ten passes a glass to him, and heads down to the other end of the bar to the woman waving him over. Renjun takes a sip, and the door jangles open again.

Renjun glances over his shoulder to see who's walked in, and sees that it's a boy - a man, technically, he supposes - who doesn't look much older than Renjun himself. He's got a hat pulled over his ears and his hands stuffed into the pockets of a puffy green jacket. His cheeks and nose are red, and his glasses are fogged from the sudden warmth inside. He walks towards the bar, and Renjun watches the fog fade from his lenses as he nears.

The stranger reaches the stool two down from Renjun on the right, but doesn’t sit. As his glasses clear all the way, before Renjun can think to turn away, the stranger makes eye contact with Renjun. His eyes are dark, but they’re warm in the golden spill of light over the bar. There's something in them Renjun can't quite put his finger on.

Then, before Renjun looks away, the stranger smiles at him, so small and hesitant at first that he almost misses it, but somehow Renjun can tell it's genuine, just knows, like he can feel it in his bones. The smile grows a bit wider, and it makes the stranger's handsome face light up.

"Hi," the stranger says. "I'm Mark."

Renjun nods a little in acknowledgement. "Renjun," he offers in return.

There's that look in the stranger's - Mark's - eyes again. "Hi, Renjun," he says. "You mind if I sit here?" He gestures to the stool next to Renjun, though there are three empty seats in a row beside it.

And maybe it's because Renjun had come here to beat the loneliness of his empty apartment, or because Mark's cheeks are still flushed pink, even though he should be warming from the cold now, or because of something else he can't pin down, some reason just out of reach, but Renjun nods. "Sure," he says. "It's nice to meet you, Mark."

The look flashes in Mark's eyes, again. Renjun's surprised he can tell it's there at all, but he knows what he sees. Mark smiles as he slips onto the bar stool and rests his hands on the bar-top, and it's a different kind of smile, but it draws Renjun in just as much. "Yeah," Mark says lowly. "It's nice to meet you, too, Renjun."

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a Short Drabble that I wrote in like an hour after I listened to folklore too much and had a Thought....now I am genuinely just holding myself back from letting it turn into a real fic lol. hope u enjoyed though <3


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